


KEVLAR, KISSES & KEYBOARDS

by lizzybennettdarcy



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 19:58:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4577928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizzybennettdarcy/pseuds/lizzybennettdarcy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight, Lead me out on the moonlit floor Lift your open hand, Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance Silver moon's sparkling So kiss me. Song-related one-shots</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Quick edit**  - I forgot to mention that this one-shot was inspired by a snippet of dialogue in the Mummy 2. Also all of these stories are unconnected one-shots.

Oliver Queen adjusted the strap of his quiver for the seventh time as his team prepared around him. Roy was sharpening his arrows in the corner, Dig was cleaning his handgun and checking his extra ammo. Felicity was zipping up her Kevlar vest. His fingers clenched around the strap for the eighth time.

It wasn't the first time she'd been out in the field. She was their self-proclaimed 'bitch with wi-fi'. She was the one who delivered the serum that took away Slade Wilson's super-strength.

He ground his teeth together as he glanced up at his blond partner. She wasn't playing the part of IT genius tonight. She wouldn't be interrogating and cyber terrorizing the bad guys of Starling tonight.

He wasn't sure that anything had ever been more wrong than Felicity Smoak holding semi-automatic shotgun. Her hands were steady even as his own shook.

He didn't have a choice.  _They_ didn't have a choice.

The door opened at the top of the stairs and Detective Lance trotted down the steps quickly. Oliver watched as he surveyed the scene and noticed just how much Lance disliked Felicity's involvement. It turned out the two of them  _could_ agree on some things.

"My men are in position, Oliver. I have handpicked a team that will follow John's lead. Sara and Nyssa will cover the rooftops." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "I have video putting Thea with Malcolm. What are-"

Oliver waved him off. "Roy will handle Thea."

Quentin nodded, understanding that Oliver knew best. Their partnership had stumbled slightly upon the big reveal but they trusted each other. His eyes settled upon Felicity who had silently watched the exchange. He tugged playfully on her ponytail. "Are you sure you need to be out there? I'm sure you could do what needs to be done down here."

Felicity's lips twitched upwards but she shrugged heavily. "We need all the help we can get, Detective. Malcolm has an army with him. Slade Wilson's army was dangerous but untrained. Malcolm was trained by the League of Assassins. We have to assume that his followers have been trained in the same way." Her eyes flickered over to Oliver before meeting Quentin's gaze once more. "Every able body."

Lance eyed the weapon in her hand doubtfully but said nothing. He wrapped his arms around her quickly, "Take care of yourself, Kiddo. You're like one of my own." He smiled. "I'm not sure how it happened but I worry about you the same as I do for Sara and Laurel."

Felicity kissed him on the cheek and stepped back. "I'll be outside, waiting." He told them before turning around and leaving.

The four of them gathered their things and met in the center of the room. Oliver struggled to find the words to say. They had never faced an enemy like this before. The silence was tense.

"Go Team Arrow?" Felicity offered with a small smile.

John and Roy both snickered. Oliver's lips turned up in a sad smile.

"We're all coming home tonight. Do you hear me?" Oliver added.

They all nodded. But John still hugged Felicity tightly and shook Oliver's hand before heading up to where Lance was waiting for him. Roy pressed his lips against Felicity's cheek before turning to face Oliver.

"I'm going to bring her home. She's still Thea. And I'm bringing her home." Roy promised, he looked between the two of them for a moment before clearing his throat. "I'll wait for you upstairs, Felicity."

Oliver and Felicity watched him leave. The air was thick with unsaid sentiments and tangible fear. Felicity's gaze was on him and he wanted to shrink beneath it.

It shouldn't be this way. She should be safely ensconced in their base of ops, guiding them along the way. She should be the voice in his ear telling him which way to go and encouraging him.

His eyes dropped to the gun in her hand and he took it from her. His hands checked it over meticulously. "You'll be just fine. Just remember to use both hands." He handed it back to her, still unable to meet her gaze. "Try to remember to keep it tight to your shoulder." He positioned it against her shoulder and moved her hands to the correct position. "Lead the target, keep them in your sights at all times." He cleared his throat, ignoring the tremble and slight cracks in his voice. "Remember to squeeze the trigger. Don't pull." His thumb brushed over the knuckles that held the barrel of the gun.

"Oliver?" Felicity whispered and his eyes snapped up to meet her gaze. "I won't miss."

This wasn't supposed to be happening. They shouldn't be here.

But they were. And for some horrible reason this felt like goodbye. As he stared into the blue depths of her eyes, he saw it there. She was saying goodbye. She knew that the odds were against them this time. She accepted that one of them might not make it home.

And as he stood before her, he suddenly wished that they had more time. He wished that he'd had a drink with her instead of Isabel in Russia. He regretted seeking comfort in Sara after his mother's betrayal. And he wished more than anything else that he hadn't remained silent on the beach seventeen months ago.

They were out of time. Something he'd been so sure they'd have more of.

Felicity placed her weapon on the table next to her and gave him an encouraging smile. His hand shot out and snaked around the back of her neck, pulling her to him. Her mouth opened in surprise just before his lips covered hers. Her fingers dug into green leather as his own ran through silky blond curls. He lost himself in the feel and the taste of her for several moments.

Why had he fought this? It was hard to remember when she was sighing like  _that_ and tangling her tongue with his.

Steel resolve settled upon him. He would survive this. And so would she.

His mouth moved against hers with renewed vigor. And then he pulled away and left without looking back.

He would see her again. And he wouldn't be wasting another damn moment.

Roy was waiting just outside the door and he grabbed Oliver's arm. Oliver looked at his protégé and waited for him to speak. "I'll bring  _both_ of them home, Oliver. Or I'll die trying." He promised.

Oliver nodded. "I know."

He didn't tell him to watch her back, or to keep her safe. He knew that Roy would do his best. He clapped the younger man on the shoulder and then he took off into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

"Oliver?" Felicity's voice was as soft as the small hand that wrapped around his wrist, pulling him to a stop. He sighed and closed his eyes tiredly, not turning to face her. Her thumb swiped absently over his pulse point, causing him to both relax and his heart to race. She would forever be a contradiction, a paradox he would never fully understand.

He knew without looking that Dig was flanking her left side, waiting for her to say whatever they felt he needed to hear. Her thumb swiped over his pulse point again and he exhaled with a lick of his lips.

"I'm sorry about the dart. I'm sure that it felt like some sort of a betrayal for us to use your own weapon against you." She paused and her hand tightened reflexively around his wrist. "But I can't apologize for stopping you, I won't."

He would never ask her to apologize for that. Felicity was forever pulling his ass out of the fire and saving him, both literally and metaphorically. She was light in the dark and joy shining through horror. She could no more let him limp stoically to his death than he could allow her to walk to her own.

"Felicity,-"

"No, Oliver." He could almost feel her shaking her head behind him. He wondered just when he became so accustomed, so  _attuned_ to the woman behind him. "And I'm sure that you're less than pleased that we brought Laurel in, and  _believe_ me, that wasn't an easy decision. She didn't exactly make me warm up to the decision when she just  _dismissed_ us the way she always does, but damn it, I'm getting off point." She blew out a breath and his heart clenched. He hated that Laurel had dismissed them, dismissed  _Felicity_ inside their home. The Lair  _was_ their home. He hadn't bothered mentioning the second lair to them because he hadn't used it since Diggle came on board. Yet another thing to apologize for.

"I'll go grab the van." Dig muttered and Oliver's eyes opened to watch his friend leave them.

Felicity remained silent and Oliver took another breath before turning to meet her gaze. He was unprepared for the watery gaze that was fixed on his chest. His feet moved forward even before he'd consciously made the decision. She was forever the axis upon which he spun. Earlier as she pleaded and laid herself bare in her desperation to change his mind, he'd been unable to deny the pull between the two of them. Even as he had said goodbye, his body leaned towards hers and his eyes couldn't quite avoid her gaze.

His free hand cupped her cheek and lifted until her blue eyes met his.

"You hurt my feelings." She whispered almost soundlessly. Pain shot through his chest as he stumbled closer to her. "You promised I'd never lose you. You promised. And then you disappeared and you hid out in that  _hole_ that you never told me about. You barely listened as I begged you to find another way. You decided to just  _kill_ yourself even though it would kill us, kill  _me_. And-" She looked away as tears began to roll down her cheeks and over his hand.

"And what?" He asked desperately. His breath was escaping in short hard pants. Every tear of hers was a slice upon his skin, a new scar to bear.

She shook her head against his hand but he cupped both cheeks and stepped closer than he had ever allowed himself to before. She sniffled, staring at his shoulder. "And then Gorgeous Laurel showed up." _And now he was willing to fight._

He was an asshole. He was a no-good rotten jerk. And he was very much responsible for every tear that had fallen since Dig had walked away.

"Felicity." He whispered reverently. " _Felicity_." He swiped his thumbs over her wet cheeks and waited for her eyes to meet his gaze once more. "Laurel said a lot of things. The only thing that mattered was her information about Sebastian." Felicity's eyes narrowed, as if searching for a lie in his words. "Laurel doesn't know me, Felicity. She gave me nothing except for the information I needed."

She didn't believe him. He dropped his hands from her cheeks and pulled her against his chest. She was tense for a moment before she relaxed fully against him. He cradled her blond curls with his large hand and allowed himself these few moments. His mouth moved to her ear.

"Laurel will never know me, not the way that you do, Felicity. What happened in there wasn't a failure on your part to reach me and a success on hers." His arms tightened around her. "I was willing to die to save all of you. Laurel's information told me that it would never work. I would die and then so would everyone else. So I'll fight. Not because she asked me to, but because there is just too much to lose if I don't."

She pulled back and his arms dropped reluctantly. He watched as she wiped hastily at her red eyes. "That wasn't-" She bit her lip and looked at her feet. "That wasn't the point, or what I was going to say. I just wanted to make sure that we were all on the same page." She raised her chin defiantly and glared up at him. "None of us are dying tonight. No marching towards death, no stupid sacrifices. Got it?"

Her tone was almost cold in its resolve. He nodded because he could deny her nothing at this point, not after the tears he'd caused to fall from her lovely face.

"And no more secrets."

Her eyes moved quickly over his form and then his face as if trying to memorize each detail. He fought to keep from doing the same thing. Her words had been delivered confidently but they both knew that there were no guarantees. They were hopelessly outmatched and outnumbered.

"Please be careful." She mumbled, placing her hand over his heart for the smallest of moments. And then she was walking away from him.

Oliver stood by his bike and watched as the black van turned the corner and disappeared from view. He sent up a quick prayer to whoever was listening to keep her safe. Dig shifted next to him and Oliver spun to face him, anger welling up inside his chest. Dig's eyebrow was raised and his arms were folded across his chest.

"Stop doing that!" Oliver snarled.

Dig took a step towards him but didn't ask for clarification.

"I hate it when you do that!" Oliver added, fists clenching.

"Do what, Oliver?" Dig asked. He clearly wanted to hear him say it.

Oliver growled and ran a hand across his scalp. "Send her in to fight me. To talk me down or up or whatever the hell it is the two of you decide on beforehand, I hate it when-"

"When she's right all the time?" Dig snapped. "When she says exactly what you need to hear but don't want to face? There's no manipulation at work here, Oliver. She has never said anything you didn't need to hear. And yeah, I prefer for her to do the talking because she's the only one you ever really  _hear_!"

"That's not true, I-"

"Give your head a shake, Man!" Dig shook his head and glared at him. "You're not unaware of how she feels about you, and I'm not blind to how you feel about her. That woman is your damn salvation and if you're not careful, you'll lose her."

Oliver's heart pounded at the thought of losing her. She could die tonight. Or tomorrow.

A hand clamped down on his shoulder and he realized that he'd been lost in his thoughts.

"Just think about it." Dig prodded gently. "I'll see you on the flipside, Brother."

Oliver watched as his friend walked away from him and out into the night.

 


	3. Chapter 3

It haunts him sometimes.

Well to be more precise, the whole situation haunts him. Even a year later, he finds himself waking up to cold sweats, yelling her name. He's dreamt up every scenario in which their plan could go terribly awry. He lies awake imagining all of the ways that he could have lost her.

What if her concussion had been worse than they'd thought? What if she'd been too disoriented to understand or too dizzy to finish Slade? What if she'd had internal bleeding and she'd died while she waited for him to save her?

What if Slade had simply decided to kill her while they waited? Yes, there was a chance that she could have dosed him with the cure but Slade was capable of killing even without the inhuman strength.

What if Felicity had been jostled around when the soldiers came for her and the vile had broken in her pocket?

What if Slade's weapon had sliced into her milky white throat as the needle had plunged into his own neck?

There were more than enough what-ifs to keep his nightmares new and horrifying. He doubted he'd ever truly get past the fears he'd had as he left her there. She might have forgiven him, but he was sure he'd never forgive himself.

But of all the what-ifs, there is one that haunts him the most. It colors his thoughts when he's close to her and when he goes to bed, always alone.

What if Felicity too, like himself, had gone off book?

His plan had been simple. Leave Felicity in the mansion with the cure. Slade would understand. He would know.

But it hadn't gone according to plan. His plans never did when they involved Felicity Smoak. No, instead he'd walked away from her, terrified that it would be the last time and forgot to give her the cure. She had argued and refused to be left behind. And then he'd done more than imply why he was leaving her there. He had crossed every carefully built line that he'd created between them. And he'd told her he loved her. He'd  _confessed_ a truth that he'd promised himself he could keep hidden deep within himself.

He'd screwed everything up but they'd managed. Everything had worked out.

But what if Felicity had responded with something other than an "Oh!" What if she had heard the confession for what it was and returned in kind? What if she had confessed that she too loved Oliver?

He wasn't stupid. Nor was he blind. Oliver knew in intricate detail how he felt about her. He remembered every detail of their first meeting, right down to the red pen that hung from her bright pink lips. And he knew that Felicity had loved him in many ways in the time they'd gotten to know each other.

What if he hadn't handed her the cure before she'd responded? What if she'd said it back?

He would never have been able to leave her. He would have swept her out of the mansion and escaped into the night, Starling City be damned. He would have run for the rest of his life to keep her safe. He would have left behind his father's mission and his own. He would have hung up the hood and spent the rest of his life keeping her safe.

On the beach at Lian Yu it took everything in him to remain silent. As she worked her way around the issue he found himself torn in two. He was heartbroken that his silence would lead her to believe it had all been a lie. He was devastated that this belief would hurt her. But he was also grateful that she hadn't said it back. Because he knew that the only thing keeping her heart intact was the fact that she hadn't said it back.

If she had he'd want to whisk her away. Because he  _did_ love her. He loved her more than anything else, anyone else.

But Felicity would  _never_ go with him. She would never sacrifice  _their_ mission for her own gain.

And he,  _he,_ would never allow himself to risk her safety. He would never be willing to love her out loud.

So it was a good thing. Really. She hadn't said it back and he'd remained silent on that beach.

A year later and they were still partners. They were still friends.

She dated. He didn't.

It wasn't just the negative what-ifs that haunted him. It was the possibility of happiness and love that stung the most.

 


End file.
